


The Book of Matthew

by bucketmouse



Series: For It Was I Who Chose To Start [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Character Death, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, M/M, Mismatched sexual preference and romantic preference, Past Infidelity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketmouse/pseuds/bucketmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets of the young life of Matthew Kirkland, from the earliest memories of his childhood, through the death of his mother, to his complicated friendship/relationship with his best friend, and up to present day.</p>
<p>Originally posted as an Intermission chapter of For It Was I Who Chose To Start, after chapter 18 on the Hetalia Kink Meme. tBoM is not necessary for understanding the fic but fleshes out the world and his and Alfred's childhood a bit more. Posted as a separate work here to manage the tags a bit better. Timeline wise, starts pre-chapter 1 of FIWIWCTS and meets back up at the end of chapter 21. Tags will be updated as pieces are posted.</p>
<p>(Unlike his brother Alfred, Matthew keeps any messing around to people his own age. Fic only includes kissing until mid-teens then just some 'messing around', but I added the Underage warning to be on the safe side)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brother

Matthew's earliest memory was of his mother. 

Memories are tricky things, he realized this on the cusp of adulthood when he studied them later, but that was many years off still in the nebulous ether of potential future.

In recalling the event, Matthew was never certain how old he was aside from 'young enough for his parents to think he won't remember'. He was fairly certain he couldn't talk, but that could have just been a choice to not talk. He was always a quiet child.

"Let's put your shoes on, Matthew." his mother said, gently, pulling on the tiny child-sized shoes while Matthew held still to allow her to do so. The shoes were brown, a soft and shining mahogany color much like his mother's pretty hair – all tied back in a messy bun that made her look like a princess from a storybook. She said his name _ma-TYU_ , like his grandparents. "We are going to pick your brother up from the hospital today, won't that be exciting?" 

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. He reached out to her, because that always made her smile reach her eyes. She leaned in so he could gently pat at the side of her face, to tug just slightly on the curl of her hair that always fell in front of her ears - not pulling, he knew better than that, but a gentle tug to let her know that he was there. She smiled again, and laughed again, and this time it did reach her eyes.

" _Maman_ loves you so much, Matthew." she picked him up then, pulled him into her arms. "My little gift. Always remember that your mother loves you."

 

The memories of the hospital were blurrier, but present. Sometimes Matthew wasn't certain they were real, or if he just made them up from watching one too many soap operas with his mother when he was young. 

Alfred was so small. So small. His father said they had the same birthday but Alfred didn't look big enough for that to be the case. His mother gently cooed at Alfred and made all the appropriate noises when one sees a baby, but when Arthur finished signing the paperwork he was the one that picked up Alfred and carried him everywhere. Mother drove and Matthew got the car seat in the back. They brought a second car seat but they didn't use it, Arthur kept hold of Alfred the whole time. Alfred fell in and out of sleep, Matthew watched as his eyes drooped open and closed again. 

"Marianne, I ... I didn't mean for this to happen." Arthur said to mother when they were all in the car but before the rumble of the engine started. 

"No one means for these things to happen, Arthur." Mother said, _ar-TUYR_. Her voice was so gentle, so sweet. "That's why they're called accidents." 

No one spoke at all for the rest of the car ride.


	2. Family

Arthur worked a lot. For a long time Matthew didn't even see him, and thought his name was 'Sir' - for that was what everyone aside from mother called him - and he was just a friend of Mother's who hung out on the weekends. For the first year after Alfred came to live with them that was different, though. Arthur set up his study in the room previously used for storage and worked from home. Alfred's crib was moved into there so Arthur could constantly keep an eye on him even as he made phone calls or typed a lot of things that looked very important. Mother said it would be a distraction to have a baby in there since they cried a lot, but Alfred never cried.

He didn't make any sounds at all at first, no screaming or cooing, just watched everything with wide blue eyes. Mother and Arthur used the words 'possible developmental issues' a lot but Matthew didn't know what that meant. He tried talking to Alfred sometimes, in words that _he_ knew the meaning to, but Alfred would never talk back. Alfred _would_ turn his attention to Matthew, though. His eyes would stop wandering the room and he'd look at Matthew like he _was_ listening, _was_ understanding even if he wasn't replying and Matthew figured that was something. 

Yes, Matthew knew who his mother was, and he understood that Alfred was his brother because he was told Alfred was his brother. It took him a while longer to realize that Arthur was his father, though, because for a long time it seemed like they were two separate families living in the same household. Alfred was Arthur's child, and he was Marianne's child. And maybe that was normal, because he didn't know it wasn't. Mother's parents seemed only interested in him, and Arthur's parents never visited at all. He knew them only from the Christmas card that arrived without fail every year. When mother's parents were visiting, Arthur exchanged pleasantries and then spent that time holed away in his study, keeping an eye on Alfred in there.

 

There were good days and there were bad days.

Mother was happier around Father when Alfred wasn't around, and happier with Alfred when Father wasn't around.

Matthew couldn't remember his own first word - his mother proudly told him it was ' _Mama_ ', but he doesn't _remember_ the event. He does remember Alfred's though, it was ' _Maddie_ '.

 

When Mother and Father argued, Matthew made himself scarce and took Alfred with him as soon as he was mobile enough to do so. He learned long ago that Alfred was the explosive factor in their relationship, and 'out of sight, out of mind' meant the fights were usually shorter, even if they simply appeared to be about mother telling father to not cook because he was going to explode the kitchen if he did it one more time and she was tired of contacting the fire department to tell them it was a false alarm. They went to the upstairs television and Matthew turned it on to Star Trek Next Generation reruns and Alfred paid more attention to the show then their fighting parents. Matthew wished he could get so lost in it like Alfred did, but he could only half-pay attention at best, always keeping an ear out to see if they were still yelling. 

 

He remembered going to church a lot. He remembered being baptized (him and Alfred both). He remembered Mother always asking forgiveness for something. 

Father went to church because it was expected of him. Matthew looked away from his hymn sheet once to see father tapping away on one of his portable electronics that was brand new in the 90's, only half paying attention to the sermon. Every now and then Mother shot him a glare and whispered something about how God was going to strike him down.

Once, and just once, Father replied "My dear, he would have done that already if he had any intention of doing so."

Much like the conversations regarding accidents, no one spoke at all for the rest of the day. 

 

When Alfred started talking he realized _sound_ was a way to get attention, apparently. Matthew quieted when Mama said 'hush', but Alfred kept babbling and talking and yelling until everyone stopped what they were doing to give him attention - _any_ attention.

He never grew out of that.


	3. School

There was a mix-up on their first day of preschool and Matt and Alfred got put in different classes. Matt kept quiet, hoping no one would notice. It was their first time truly being separated, and Matthew loved it. He loved not having to compete with Alfred for attention - being able to just be himself at his own pace, without having to worry about keeping tabs on his brother. 

Apparently Alfred got into a fight on his first day. Matt dreaded being told that either he or Alfred would be moved so he could keep an eye on his brother. That never happened, though. Alfred demanded to be left where he was - he had made friends in that class and he wanted to stay.

Marianne threw up her hands and said that their father could straighten it out. That was generally what she did when Alfred was causing trouble. Matthew's class was the one they were meant to go to, and there was no room for yet another unexpected addition in the one Alfred had been placed in by mistake. 

Arthur listened to Alfred's demands, then turned his attention to Matthew. He always felt uncomfortable when Arthur's attention was on him. He was this strange and distant authority figure, and Matthew never knew what it was he needed to do to please him. 

"And you? Are you fine with keeping things how they are?" Arthur asked, that leading tone that said that there was a right answer and a wrong answer, and Matthew desperately wished he knew which was which. 

"Yes, sir." Matt said quietly, going with what he truly wanted and hoping for the best. 

Arthur nodded, and the schedule was kept the way it was. 

 

Alfred found a best friend in the quiet Japanese-American boy that had claimed him a hero. Every waking moment that they could was spent together. Alfred loved him, and the escape that his friendship offered. Matthew loved the freedom it gave him to be more than a matched set. It gave him enough breathing room that he found he didn't mind not having a friend he was that close to. He wanted some time alone.


	4. Mother

Alfred almost got kidnapped once. They were at the park, and Alfred was talking to a stranger. Matthew didn't think anything of it, because strangers that were dangerous had big black trench coats and black hats. This guy looked like any adult they could have met at church, but when he took Alfred's hand and started walking the little boy to where a van was idling, Matthew recognized the blacked out windows from his 'Stranger danger' lessons. Matthew dropped his toys and quickly scanned the playground. His mother was sitting on a bench, talking with one of the other mothers as the two had crossword puzzles open in their lap. Matthew looked back to where Alfred was quickly getting farther and farther away with the stranger.

Briefly, Matthew considered letting him go. Wouldn't their family be happier without Alfred in it? He was what always made Mama and Papa fight. Maybe if he was gone, they wouldn't argue anymore, and Matthew wouldn't have to deal with Alfred's increasing tantrums and vies for attention. Maybe it would be better.

But then he remembered something his father had said, in passing, one of the few times his father spoke to him or paid him any mind. _'You're bigger and stronger, so he's your responsibility'._ Matthew remembered thinking it was kind of lame that other boys got a dog and he had to deal with a brother. The point was still made in the small boy's subconscious, though. Alfred was still littler even if he was growing like a weed by the day, so that made Matthew the one that had to look out for him. 

He ran over to their mother and tugged on the hem of her dress, saying nothing but "Mama" and pointing to where Alfred was being lead away. 

Marianne looked to where Matthew was gesturing, and was on her feet in an instant. Matthew didn't know how fierce his mother could be, she only yelled at Dad after all, and it was in that moment that Matthew realized she was always holding back with him - angry to prove a point rather than to express a true depth of feeling.

Marianne ran down the paved path, heels and long dress be dammed, yelling out "ALFRED!" Both Al and the stranger looked up, though not in time to react any further. Marianne actually elbow-checked the other adult in the lower back so hard he crashed to the ground, sweeping Alfred up in her arms in the same smooth movement and screaming _"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SON!"_

They had to wait for the police to arrive to give a statement. Matthew couldn't remember if the man got away or if he got arrested, if it even really was a kidnapping or just a big misunderstanding. What he did remember was how he sat next to his mother in the warm sun of the early afternoon, holding on to her sleeve so she knew he was still there while she held on to Alfred for hours, yelling at anyone that tried to take him from her and fussing over him like he was Matthew. 

 

Later that night, after the two of them were tucked into bed and the lights were turned off, Matthew turned to look across the room at his brother's bed. 

"That was stupid, Fred. He would have taken you away." Matthew said, quietly. 

"Yeah." Alfred agreed, not looking over to Matt. "I was kind of counting on it." 

 

Things were better after that, strangely enough. Marianne still handled Alfred with a certain amount of distance, but she didn't leave him entirely up to Arthur to raise. Which was good, because Matthew was quickly learning that Arthur had no idea what he was doing.

He wasn't sure if dads were supposed to give that secret away, but when Alfred started fussing and yelling for attention, Matthew started watching Arthur quietly, saw how much he floundered, how helpless he looked before Marianne stepped in and made everything better. Alfred threw less tantrums when Marianne started paying more attention to him. She gave him discipline as well, equally splitting up chores between both boys. She could tell him 'no' where Arthur wasn't able to, and soon Arthur was seen only on weekends again while he spent the rest of the time working. 

Matthew's favorite chore was pulling weeds for his mom. She had a beautiful garden full of roses, and during the spring and summer months she was most often found kneeling among the flowers, sipping wine and working magic only she knew to make them bloom and grow perfectly. Alfred liked the running around part of being outside, but he had no patience for learning his mother's craft. That was Matthew's alone to be interested in, and Matthew enjoyed having something to share with her instead of Alfred. 

When the time came, some flowers would be cut and then the whole house would smell like roses and lilies for weeks, every surface decorated with them. The other mothers would come over and admire Marianne's work, coo over her children - two boys was apparently a big deal among the social circle and both got complimented for their appearance. Alfred was 'precocious' and Matthew was 'so well behaved'. Mother drank quite a bit of wine, but in thinking back on it Matthew never recalled her actually being drunk. A glass of red or white was simply an accessory, something that added to her mystique along with her accent that never went away and made her all the more charming to the other adults in the neighborhood. She flirted heavily regardless of gender, though with the other wives it was frequently played for laughs. 

She never strayed, though. A touch of hands was all she would allow and then she would be laughing it off, flitting away like a butterfly to her next guest to entertain. "Some things are still sacred." Matthew heard her whisper once to another parent.


	5. Names

Christmas was always spent in Quebec. Matthew would go with his mama, and he would see his grandparents' vineyards. It was winter, so nothing would be growing, but Matthew liked wandering around the cellar where all the cases of wine were kept. He had no taste for the stuff, much to his grandparents' entertainment, but it was like a whole different world where he was expected to be someone else entirely.

It was where he got most of his French practice, as Grandfather insisted on speaking it and nothing else. It kept Matthew's language skills sharp, having reason to know both and use both at least once a year instead of learning them in class one day and then not needing them again. He learned family history from his grandfather - his mother's family history, anyway. They had a thing for family names. Marianne Bonnefoy was the last surviving member of a prominent French family and fled the country shortly before the Nazis took over, eventually making her way to Canada where she sought political sanctuary. Matthew Williams was a pilot and a soldier, and apparently their love was one for the ages. She stayed in Quebec after the war, they married, and made a family there. Grandfather went on and on about how beautiful his mother was, how his own daughter was a spitting image - grandmother just laughed at the old stories, also the child of French immigrants. 

"What about Alfred?" Matthew asked one night at dinner, while they watched the snowdrifts fall gently outside the cottage window. Marianne seemed startled by the question. 

"What was that, sweetheart?" She asked, turning her full attention to Matthew. The rest of the table went silent. 

"Well, you and me have family names." Matthew said simply, going slowly as he had to focus more on his French. "What about Alfred? Where does his name come from?"

Matthew knew he had stumbled on a subject that was taboo as soon as he said the words. The pause was a small one, but just long enough for Matthew to notice how everyone went very quiet, and no one would look at Matthew. 

"Probably someone in your father's family, I'm sure! It's rather sad they don't visit us more often, but you know - they're very busy in London, no time to waste. Workaholics, all of them, like your father!" Once again, Marianne recovered and eased the conversation back to light laughter. Matthew thought he should probably let the subject drop. 

 

"Sir?" Matthew stood at the doorway to Arthur's study. It was Sunday, they were all getting ready for church, Arthur was just checking his work e-mail as he drank his morning tea and fumbled with his tie. 

"Yes, Matthew, what is it?" Arthur asked, not looking away from the screen. One of his hands pulled away from his tie to type something out quickly on the keyboard. 

"I was just wondering - where did Alfred's name come from?" Matthew watched Arthur's expression carefully, but he didn't fumble or pause like Marianne had. He just shrugged dismissively, as if it was not worth the extra thought that would take him away from his work. 

"I hardly know, it was his mother's decision -- you know how she is about family names, best to not argue. Why do you ask?" 

Matthew bit the inside of his lip. 

"We were talking about names in class on Friday. I was just curious. Thanks Dad -- I'll send Mama in to help with your tie." Matthew darted out of the living room hallway, turning so he could yell into the kitchen - "Mama, Papa can't get his tie right!" before running up the stairs to his shared room with Alfred. 

Alfred's shirt was untucked, he hadn't bothered with shoes yet, and was reading a comic book as if he had forgotten what he was doing halfway through getting dressed. Matthew frowned. 

"Fred, where does your name come from?" He asked, unable to let the subject stay down until he got a proper answer. He didn't know why he thought Alfred would know. Maybe because it was all about him - everything was always about him. 

"Batman." Alfred said without looking up at Matthew. The answer startled Matt. 

"What?"

" _Batman._ Like, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are cool and all, but let's get real here. Alfred's the only one in the whole story with a lick of sense. It's from Batman." Alfred looked up at Matthew, bright blue eyes wide with curiosity. "Why? You wanna borrow my comics? You can." 

Alfred, Matthew realized, didn't know jack shit.


	6. Death

Matthew remembered the last day they walked home from school together in perfect detail. Every minute of that day is etched into his memory, refusing to be forgotten. He was fairly certain that he could live to be one hundred years old and still remember the exacts of that day on his deathbed.

It was the last day of sixth grade, Matthew was developing a Scotch Broom allergy and Alfred was being particularly ADHD. He didn't call Alfred that around his parents or Alfred, but he had head the other kids at school call Alfred that and it seemed like it fit. Alfred wanted to just go right home with Kiku after school, but Marianne insisted they come home first which left Alfred bouncing off the walls.

Matthew knew something was wrong the instant they got to their block. 

The weather was so nice that Mama would be outside tending her roses with a glass of wine normally, but no one was in the yard and there was no sign anyone had been all day. He thought to ask Nurse Liz, who was a nurse at the high school and lived next door to them, but it didn't look like she was home. The house next to theirs dark - her husband worked late too. Matthew's walk slowed as he took in the scene, as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Their windows were dark too, not that it was all that surprising - it was summer, so there was no reason to turn on the lights when opening a window would suffice. But most of the windows were still closed. Like mother hadn't gotten to it yet. But why? 

A sense of overwhelming dread filled Matthew, but he was still at the bottom of the staircase leading up to their porch while Alfred was already opening the door. 

"Fred, stop!" Matt yelled, but it was too late. He heard Alfred screaming, running - Matthew dropped his backpack and took the stairs two at a time, his father's words echoing in his mind. _You're bigger, he's your responsibility -_

Mother was laying at the foot of the staircase, too pale, already too stiff. Alfred was kneeling next to her, shaking her shoulder, sobbing, crying out "Mama!" 

Matthew stayed in the doorway, taking deep breaths, trying to keep his lunch from crawling up his esophagus. He kept his walk calm, purposeful, grabbed Alfred and pulled him back - Matthew was still just a little bit bigger than Alfred, just a little bit stronger. 

"Fred, you have to calm down. Fred, I need you to call 911." The sooner Matt got Alfred away from the body - _the body_ \- she was too pale and not breathing and they were both simply _too late_ \- the better, Alfred was sobbing and shaking and nodded. Matthew had to shove him in the direction of the downstairs phone, but Alfred was crying too much to see right and was knocking it over before he managed to get the handset and the receiver upright as he dialed the emergency number. Matthew stood vigil over his mother's cold form instead, trying to put her back the way she was before Alfred started shaking her. She looked like she had simply fallen down then gone to sleep, there was no blood, no limb bent at a wrong angle like in those television shows. 

Alfred was sobbing, trying to answer the questions the dispatcher was asking him but Matthew could barely make sense of him, he was not certain the dispatcher could. _They track the calls,_ he told himself _if Alfred can't get the answer out they'll send someone anyway._

Still, Matthew rose, went over to Alfred and took the phone away. He pulled his brother against his side and answered the dispatcher's questions as calmly as he could, covering Alfred's eyes with his free hand while his brother fell apart. Matthew had to be strong, for Alfred. 

They sat in the shadow of the staircase, Matt didn't know how long. The dispatcher kept talking gently to him while the ambulance was sent out, so the two boys wouldn't be alone. 

"Mary?"

It was Nurse Liz, at the doorway and still in her work clothing, holding Matthew's discarded bag. Matthew didn't hear her car pull up, but she must have just gotten home. She gasped. 

"... Our neighbor came over, thank you, we'll be okay." Matthew said numbly to the dispatcher, gently placing the phone back in the cradle, still holding Alfred close against him. He looked up at Nurse Liz. "We already called 911. They're sending someone over now."

Elizabet pulled the two boys close and held them while the sirens came closer, and with someone else there to be strong, Matthew cried too. 

 

Elizabet was able to come with them to the hospital, stayed with the boys while their father was called. Time passed by in a blur, huddled against her side with Alfred until their father showed up.

Arthur didn't cry. Well, not where they could see it. He made a distinct point of not showing more than a hint of sadness (weakness) where his sons could observe, strong so they wouldn't have to be. 

 

Their mother had died of a stroke. It was, according to the doctors, most likely so sudden that she wasn't in any pain.

Matthew always wondered, though. 

There was no way to know.

 

Later still, Matthew remembered hearing noises downstairs in the middle of the night so he carefully crept out of bed and down the stairs.

It was the first and only time he ever saw his father crying. 

Arthur was in his office, a bottle of rum almost entirely empty sitting on the desk next to him. He was sobbing, red-faced, hiccuping. He was talking to himself, mostly mumbling so Matthew couldn't hear. Nothing except one sentence.

_"Why does everyone I love die?"_

Matthew ran back upstairs and into bed, pulling his blankets up over himself tightly so he could cry into his pillow, so he wouldn't hear something he didn't want to. 

 

Matthew kept waiting for his grandparents to come and take him away. Grandfather had told mother a few times that if something happened to her, he wasn't leaving Matthew with his father. 

They never came.

Matthew wondered if this was what Alfred was feeling, when he took that stranger's hand at the park.


	7. Lizzie & G-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene has been expanded on since it's original posting and contains new material!

Things never really 'got better' after his mother's death, but after the memorial they fell into routine. 

Nurse Liz babysat the boys almost every day during summer. She was a good friend of their mother's, so even though neither boys were old enough for high school, the virtue of her being a neighbor on good terms meant that she was still a figure in their lives. Every weekday Arthur left for work a little later than usual, late enough to wake the boys, get them dressed, and walk them across the narrow patch of yard with the crab apple tree to Nurse Liz's front door. Her garden was not as elaborate as their mother's, but they had a fancy wood carved sign in it saying _'Edelstein'_ in meticulously carved script. 

At first their father had tried making breakfast for the boys, but it quickly had become apparent why their mother had banned him from the kitchen, so Nurse Liz just greeted them early every morning with a bright smile and a hug for both, exchanging a few gentle pleasantries with their father before she ushered them into the kitchen for breakfast. 

Matthew worried for a few days that perhaps they were imposing on her kindness. He wasn't so immature that he didn't understand that adults had their own lives, surely she had better things to do than to take care of two kids who weren't even her's.

If she ever thought that way it never showed. Alfred, who had stopped talking again after Marianne's passing, was coaxed back into doing so by the songs Nurse Liz sang while she cooked. Beautiful and melodic in a language neither of the boys understood but Alfred got good at parroting just the same.

Aside from her husband's music room, Nurse Liz let them have free run of her home. It was mostly a mirrored version of theirs, as was the type with the 'little boxes on the hillside' style houses - their neighborhood being only one of a small handful in the town to run in that vein. While chasing Alfred through the upstairs hallway, Matthew found the room in their house that would be where his and Alfred's was. Curious, since Nurse Liz and her husband did not have children, he took a peek inside. It almost lost his interest just as quickly. Storage, mostly all boxed up nice and neat, except - his eyes were drawn to a pair of roller skates, right inside the door. Marianne had never let Alfred or Matthew play with roller skates. She was worried they would get hurt - a worry that for some reason didn't really extend to bicycles, but parents had funny ways of judging danger. 

"Nurse Liz!" Matthew called as he walked down the stairs, almost topped over as he tried to hold the skates steady. They looked like they would be a little bit big on him, but just a little bit. He was growing fast, after all. 

"Mattie? You okay- oh my gosh, kiddo, where'd you find those?" Liz laughed as she stepped out of the kitchen to see Matthew coming down the stairs. 

"Storage room." Matthew answered. He heard a thud from upstairs, probably Alfred. Matt paused only a moment before he heard running again and dismissed the initial thud. Alfred would cry if he'd have been hurt. "Are they yours? Can I try them?" 

"Yeah, they're mine, I played two seasons of roller derby back in college." Elizabet finished drying her hands on the dishrag she was holding, setting it on one of the kitchen counters before meeting Matthew at the bottom of the stairs. "Alright, Matt, try them on. If they fit, we'll see how your balance is."

They didn't fit perfectly, but they fit well enough, and after a shaky start Matthew managed to get his balance down fairly enough that Elizabet said that if his father bought him some skates that would fit him, she would teach him how to skate. 

Matthew had a pair to bring with him to Liz's two days later. So did Alfred, who of course wanted to come along. It was a huge waste - the instant Alfred put them on and had Liz's help standing, his feet flew out from under him and he fell flat on his ass. Unaccustomed to not being an instant success at things, Alfred quickly lost interest and decided to run around instead while Elizabet coached Matthew in some of the finer points of roller skating. From then on, whenever they walked anywhere, Elizabet carried an extra pair of shoes for Matthew and he traveled by skate. To the library, to the corner store, Matthew got very good very quickly, especially since he didn't have to worry about his brother while he played and practiced. 

 

That summer, Matthew and Alfred met Gilbert 'G-Man' Beilschmidt for the first time. He was the Phys Ed teacher at the same high school Nurse Liz worked at. Alfred and Matthew were upstairs when they heard the front door open right before lunch and an unfamiliar voice letting out a bellow of "LIZZIE! DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU?" 

The boys exchanged a look before running to the hallway where they could investigate (spy) better from the top of the staircase.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Gilbert!" Elizabet hissed, stomping out of the kitchen, and Matthew briefly tensed because for a moment he was reminded of their parents fighting. She threw the dish-rag at the tall white-haired man's face before Matthew could get a good look at him. "I told you not to just barge in here! Also, I have kids in the house, so keep it down!" 

"Damn, chill out dude, it isn't like your husband's car is in the garage, I'm not a complete fuckwit." Gilbert pulled the rag off of his face, shoving it in his pocket like he was intending to keep it. Even from the distance of all the way up the stairs, Matthew was startled to see his eyes were red. Not crying red, but like... 'probably a monster in a horror movie' red.

"You could have fooled me. Also, language! Like I said, fucking kids in the house."

Alfred couldn't help but laugh at their exchange, Nurse Liz chiding the newcomer on his language while swearing, herself.

"Shh!" Matthew whispered, but it was already too late. Elizabet and Gilbert had moved to the bottom of the staircase, looking right up at the two boys. Liz looked slightly embarrassed, but Gilbert was smiling wide. 

"Whoa, ankle biters, you weren't lying! C'mere, let me see you two! Promise I'm not a pervert creeper, they let me work with kids and everything." Gilbert declared, holding an arm out. Matthew was still wary, but Alfred had recovered from his stint of silence almost entirely by then and was back to craving any and all attention he could get. Attention that was now quite literally being offered with open arms. He took the steps two at a time to get down to meet the new person, letting out a happy scream when Gilbert grabbed the boy under his arms and lifted him up into the air to spin around. 

"Whoa there, you're a big one, little dude! Lizzie, you never told me you had kids! And _blonde_ , too?" He set Alfred down, grinning at Elizabet, faux whispering, "Are you _stepping out on your man?_ " 

" _Gill!_ " Elizabet yelled, red faced. 

"My name is Fred! That's my brother Matt!" Alfred pointed up to Matthew, who decided that there was no point in hiding and made his way downstairs as well at a much more subdued pace. 

"We're from next door. Our mom died a couple weeks ago. Nurse Liz is babysitting us until school starts again."

It was a mood-killer to be sure, but Gilbert clearly didn't know and he'd have to find out sometime. Better get it over with quick, Matthew figured. Like pulling off a band-aide. He wondered how long he'd have to introduce himself and Alfred that way. Their names. That their mom was dead. 

Gilbert sure cringed like he realized he put his foot in his mouth at least.

 

Gilbert stayed for lunch and threw a football back and forth with Alfred while Elizabet helped Matthew with his skates for the rest of the afternoon. Around four thirty Gilbert took his leave much to Alfred's disappointment, but their father was soon to be due home anyway and so was Elizabet's husband. At the time, Matthew didn't make a connection. 

 

Looking back on it, for all the tragedy that kicked that summer off, for all the sadness in every waking hour, there was a lot of happiness to it too. Gilbert came over more often - their parents never really bothered to teach them sports so Gilbert and Elizabet took a certain amount of glee being the ones to introduce them to that. Alfred took quickly to football, and once Matthew had gotten the hang of roller skates Elizabet took them to the ice rink as well. While they were there another parent made an offhand comment about 'their parents', and Matthew and Alfred followed their line of sight to see the person talking about Gilbert and Elizabet, bickering happily over something or another. Nurse Liz kept hitting his shoulder, but Gilbert seemed to enjoy it.

The boys shared a look.

They didn't correct the other parents. 

 

One of the last days of summer, Matthew was going upstairs to ask Nurse Liz if he could have a sandwich when he heard hushed talking. Naturally curious and without Alfred to blow his cover, Matthew stepped as quietly as he could to get a better listen.

"When do you send the kids home? I can come back over later." that was Gilbert, his voice low.

"No you can't. It's been fun, the four of us, but you really can't keep coming over like this, especially when Matt and Fred _aren't_ here." Elizabet then, she sounded angry.

"Worried you'll do something untoward without your tiny chaperones?"

"I'm married now, Gill."

"Get a divorce." the simple and matter-of-fact way Gilbert said this was a little startling to Matthew. His parents fought, they had their disagreements, but he'd never heard the "d-word" mentioned even in passing by them. It was just as bad as swearing, it had seemed.

"And do what then, marry _you?_ "

"Well, _yeah._ What's wrong with that?"

"Divorcing and remarrying someone in the trailer park kind of negates the whole 'getting married to get _out_ of the trailer park' deal, Gill."

"So? We could be happy. Have a couple of kids of our own maybe. I've been thinking about that and I _know_ you've been thinking about it too." 

"I love Roderich."

"You love _me._ " Gilbert's voice was quiet, a desperate plea.

"The two aren't mutually exclusive." Elizabet replied. In that moment, her voice sounded as sad as Marianne's.

 

"Why don't you have any kids?" Matthew asked the next day as she made them goulash, one of her specialties. Gilbert hadn't come over that day. Alfred was trying to fold a paper crane out of a napkin, but the paper was too soft so it wasn't working well. 

Nurse Liz laughed at the question. Matthew's heart ached. Her laugh sounded just a little sad, like Mama's did. 

"I suppose kids aren't in the cards for me." was all she replied with before serving both the boys. 

Her relationship with her husband had been strained for a while. She told them that day that decided to move at the end of summer, for better or for worse Matthew wasn't sure. 

Matthew asked why.

Elizabet looked to the driveway where her husband's car was pulling in. She smiled sadly, again.

"Sometimes love isn't enough."

Matthew was too young to understand what she meant, then.


	8. Max

Max moved next door into Nurse Liz's old house around the middle of the school year after their mother died. Alfred was out late with Kiku and father was working, as always. Since school was back in session and the boys were now older, their dad began coming home later and later again. Pretty soon Matthew was sure they'd never see him except maybe for the once a month.

Matthew sat on the window seat in the living room with a book in his lap as he watched the moving truck roll up. One father, one mother, one son who looked about Matthew's age. They talked to one another excitedly in a mixture of English and what sounded like Spanish. Al would probably have been able to tell what they were saying if that was the case. He took Spanish as his elective language and, like all things, was pretty good at it without even trying. Matthew took French for an easy A. Watching the family for a few moments longer and with no small amount of envy, Matthew eventually set his book aside and scrambled into the kitchen. 

About and hour and a half later he had a basket of fresh baked macaroons, with a red and white checkered ribbon tied around the handle and a matching cloth draped over the basket to keep the warmth in. Mother was always particular about how half the good taste was good presentation. He pulled on a nice jacket, brushed his hair down, and crossed the small stretch of lawn to the other front door. No one was outside, so they were probably taking a break. Matthew hesitated, fist raised to knock at the door. What if they were having dinner? What if he was interrupting? Would it be better to leave the basket on their doorstep?

The hesitation made his choice for him. The door was flung open by the son, not looking ahead as he yelled back into the house " _Si, mama!_ "

Matthew yelped, stepping back to avoid a collision. The boy shouted too, almost running into Matt. He was a little bit taller with a wide stocky build, and his hair pulled back into thick dreadlocks which were tied back into a ponytail.

"Whoa! Sorry, I didn't see you there!" the boy exclaimed, apologetic turning curious a second later. "... Who are you?"

By then the boy's mother had come to check on what the noise was. She was as dark as her son but tall and slender, her hair falling in dark curls. She looked very young. 

"Um!" Matthew felt himself getting flustered, imagining his own mother was there with him, gently urging him to introduce himself. 

"I'm Matthew Kirkland! I live next door. I just wanted to say welcome to the neighborhood." Matthew thrust the basket forward. 

The mother smoothly intercepted the cookies to keep her son from taking them, smiling gently at Matthew.

"That is so kind! Thank you, I am Mrs. Ramirez, this is my son Maximo."

" _MAX._ " the boy corrected, with a slight flush. Matthew smiled. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ramirez. Max." 

"These smell delicious, Matthew, did your mother make them?" Mrs. Ramirez asked pleasantly. Matthew felt his stomach lurch.

"Um, no." Matthew faltered. Like peeling off a band-aid. "She passed away last year. I made them. Its her recipe, though."

"Oh, dear." Mrs Ramirez frowned. "I'm so sorry... Max, why don't you go outside and play? Matthew, could I impose on you to show Maximo around a little?" She gently pushed her son forward, just a little bit. 

"I'd love to." Matthew smiled. 

 

Matthew gave Max the foot-based tour of the neighborhood. Where the schools were, the stores, the important bus stops and places to avoid - they ended up at the park on the lake, standing at the dock and leaning against the metal railing, looking into the water. It was too cold for swimmers, and the lake was never very good for fishing on the shore, so they had the dock to themselves. 

"I've never been to Florida." Matthew said, after Max had told him where he lived before. His parents were from Cuba but Max had been born in Florida -- he had never been to Cuba, though his parents spoke fondly of it and made sure he could speak the language, too. 

"Part of it is for Nana. She doesn't speak English that well." Max added. 

"My grandparents are from Quebec," Matt said excitedly, happy to find something that passed for common ground. "They speak French. Grandmother knows English too, but Grandpa pretends that the only English he knows is 'Speak French, idiot!'" 

The two boys shared a laugh, and watched the seaweed sway with the current. 

 

Matthew always knew there was something different about him. While Alfred seemed happy to play some not-so-innocent games with whoever was a willing partner, Matthew was looking just at the other boys. He didn't know who to talk to, if he even could. So he went to Max.

Matthew and Max often played games in the shady spot between their two houses. A crab apple tree blocked the view from the second floor of both houses, it allowed them as much privacy as two pre-teens could really hope for. It was their spot - Alfred would rather play outside at Kiku's, especially since he didn't seem to like Max at all. As far as Matthew could tell nothing had happened, aside from Alfred making fun of the way Maximo looked with his glasses which was terribly unfair as _they_ wore glasses too, and Max was even more nearsighted than them both. Other than that, they just seemed to rub each other the wrong way. He liked having Max to himself, though he hoped the two would get over their differences.

Matthew and Max would play pretend, or with small plastic toys that it wasn't a tragedy to lose among the tall, hard to mow grass. 

It was a hot summer day like any other when Matthew looked up and the way the light filtered through the trees and fell on Max just made Matt's heart ache. 

"Hey," Matthew said, anxious and nervous and unable to stop himself. "Do you want to kiss?"

"Like... practice? For girls?" Max asked curiously, interested.

"Yeah." Matthew lied. "Sure." He wasn't thinking of girls when he leaned in and brushed his lips against Max's. 

 

Kissing became their new private playtime activity that summer. Eventually Max stopped calling it practice, and started getting more aggressive. Matt let him, thrilled to just have Max's lips and body pressed against his own. They kept it to when they were all alone, both knowing enough to understand that this was a game they could get in trouble for.

One afternoon they were laying on Max's bed, just kissing in comfortable companionship. Max had his hand resting on Matt's hip and it felt so exciting though Matt wasn't sure what to do about it. 

Max removed his hand, much to Matthew's dismay, only to bring it up near Matt's face and tug gently at a strand of golden blond hair. It was longer than usual, hanging down just past his chin in gentle ringlets. Him and Alfred were between haircuts. 

"You're so pretty." Max breathed against Matthew's lips. "Like a girl."

In retrospect that should have been the first hint, but Matthew didn't have time to dwell on the exact phrasing Max had used for that compliment. The sound of heavy footsteps of a parent making their way down the hall had both boys scrambling apart, grabbing discarded comics and schoolbooks in an attempt to hide what they were just doing. 

Max's mother opened the door to his room after a light tap of a knock, peeking in and seeing both boys sitting on the floor with books and comics. She smiled. 

" _Papi_ just got home with the groceries, would either of you like a pop?" She asked. 

"Yeah, mama." Max said. Matthew nodded in agreement.

"Um, do you need any help bringing them in...?" He offered. Max's mom smiled again.

"Oh, no. We've got it. You two boys have fun, I'll be back up with some cold pops in a moment." 

Matthew was relieved that Mrs. Ramirez hadn't noticed anything off. So he thought, anyway. As perceptive as Matthew was, he missed the few seconds of pause while she took in the flushed state of both boys, how they refused to make eye-contact with her or each-other, and - 

Oh dear. 

In that second she asked herself if she would be able to handle if Max came out, some day. A fraction of a second later she realized what a stupid question that was. Max was her baby and she loved him no matter what, and Matthew would be a prize significant other for any parent to have for their child, regardless of gender. So she went back out to have a quick talk with Max's father and make sure they were on the same page. It could just be youthful experimentation, but she would not have a household where her son felt like he wasn't loved, or that he couldn't be himself. 

 

Max's parents were always very nice to Matthew, even if he wasn't exactly sure why. They also didn't seem to mind that their son didn't have a girlfriend, even as Matthew watched other parents begin to ask their sons about girls in their class. Instead they just smiled at Matt and asked if he was coming over for dinner that night.


End file.
